Final Days
by Demontale
Summary: Leigh's: "Ancient Grudges" inspired me. After countless years, Rejal has passed on, but is tormented in the afterlife and wishes to relive one event from her former life. (Reminds me of "Our Town"..*eep*) Rated for future reference.
1. The Sun Finally Sets

I was. . .  
  
Dead?  
  
How could that ever be?  
  
I thought I'd never die.   
  
Never believe the inevitable, I had always told myself.  
  
Look where it had gotten me.  
* * *  
I remember those few moments before my death.  
  
I had been looking in a mirror. Staring, finally recognizing myself. I had finally seen who I was in that old full-length mirror. Was. . .or had been?  
  
Long, waist-length gray-white hair hung loosely about me. When I had moved, it flowed silently behind. Once I stood still, it would sway momentarily and then stop dead in its place. 'My eyes have dulled,' I thought to myself. 'No longer are they the seductive, mysterious brown they once were. Now, they are somber and dark.'  
  
From my eyes I then gazed about to my skin, holding my hands, palm down, before me. I glanced once to the mirror image, and then once at them with my own eyes.  
  
Pale. There was no olive-brown anymore. Even I could barely teel I was of Greecian lineage, myself.  
  
I departed from the mirror. For some reason it only disheartened me. Now that I am free, I have thought it saddened me only because it made me realize the hour of death was upon me.  
  
I returned to my beloved wooden rocking-chair. It had given me comfort for those past two years. I had hidden out in my lonely cottage in the middle of the woodlands. Alone and with memories.  
  
Ah yes. Memories. Many a time had I been locked away, either in some jail or other or in the long-lost castle of Alahar. I had escaped from the prisons. And now Alahar was nothing but a ruin.  
  
I trembled, picking up a 9"x10" portrait from the wicker table beside the rocker. Using my free hand I covered my mouth as I coughed. I had not been well the past 6-months. It was an ongoing war between me and my illness. I do not yet know what it was that plagued me so; I can only guess it was influenza. The virus cells overtook my body and wore down the white blood cells and anti-bodies. Influenza, the wore away my immune system until it was nothing but a dilapidated wreck.  
  
Ah, how those words remind me so much of Alahar. . .  
  
May it's remaining rubble burn in the fires of hell.  
  
I glanced quickly to the window. The sun was almost gone as the moon rose gallantly into the sky. As the sun's final rays disappeared, I wheezed. A poetic thought came into my head then: 'And as the sun's final threads of light disappear beyond the horizon, I now realize my time had finally set. . .'  
  
At least, it had seemed poetic at the time.  
  
With one last wheeze I glanced back to the photo and took with that glance the chance to remember three women who had made life an exciting, but perpetual nightmare for many people.  
  
'Carmen. . . Marisa. . .'  
  
The picture fell from my grasp as my eyes closed and I fell forward from the chair unto the floor. 


	2. Old Nemesis

"Ah, Ares," I said without the usual emotion of hatred I had always used to feel toward him. I was dead, what was worse that he could do to me now?  
  
The god nodded back wit the same lack of emotion. "Rejalyn Athenlar."  
  
I tensed, knowing the pleasantries were about to fade.  
  
And I was right.  
  
Ares growled, smirking righteously to me. "Rejalyn Athenlar, once a beautiful, Greecian princess of a flourishing kingdom. She who managed to evade me, her mother, her step mother, her father, her past love, and my other various minions. She who escaped the tyranny of royalty, only to be brought back once, escape again to leave the land in a futile slump, to be thrown in countless numbers of prisons among others. And, to save time I'll finish this up now, she who befriended a spaniardess and a night elf."  
  
I laughed. "I don't see where being friends with Carmen and Marisa is anything to be ashamed of. Nor the rest of the babble you poured out at me. I am not ashamed of my past life, Ares. Nor will I ever be."  
  
He snorted contemptuously. "You've been ashamed of it all your life, Rejalyn Athenlar. At least a part of it, anyway. You've just succeeded in hiding it for years.  
  
"And perhaps you may not think your friendship with those hellcats is such a bad thing; but it changed your life drastically. You could have been so much better off had you not ever met them those decades ago. Alahar would still be thriving, your father would have passed gallantly on and given its regime to you and your husband, none other than Tahlet, who would never have become subject to those witches and thusly never have become a shapeshifter. Your dragon friend would have gone back to his clan, assassinated his uncle, and took control over dozens of the dragon clans in the northwest lands.  
  
"True, Carmencita and Marisa still would have met. They would have setforth perils among these disgusting humans and other vagrant specks of filth upon this Earth. They may still do that anyway, although had they not met you they would have done it long before.  
  
"They would have become greatly feared."  
  
'They already are,' I thought to myself. I yawned. "What is your point, Ares? Can you speed this up at all?"  
  
The god laughed sanctimoniously. "Why hurry, Rejal? You are dead! You have all the time in the world! In the heavens! In the hells, as a matter of fact!"  
  
"You're stalling," I realized.  
  
"You are 63 years old," he hissed. "You could have lived to be so much older."  
  
"I am lucky to have lived this long, Ares." I said, "You speak to the unstable, Greecian mercenary-warrior who once attacked fire elementals with a sword and a dragon at her back, she who tried to dive off a cliff and end her troubles in the ocean, and she," I added smugly, "who befriended the spaniardess and night elf.  
  
"Come to think of it," I paused, "it was you who pushed me into attacking the elemental. Bastard. Now then, stop stalling and tell me what you're slowly trying to get to."  
  
"Very well," Ares said. His shoulders drooped into the relaxing position. "You have the chance to either go back down to Earth and see your old friends as they cope with your death, or relive one event from your past life before going on."  
  
"Going on to where?"  
  
"To either some heaven, or some hell, Rejalyn Athenlar. Would you care to guess which one?" he grinned, flashing his pearly whites. "I grow bored of this. Decide now."  
  
I shrugged. In my old age I had grown more stubborn and undecided than ever. "Can't I do both?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not? Athena would let me. I have served her well."  
  
"I AM NOT ATHENA! I AM ARES!"  
  
"Well, no duh, brainiack. I'm calling to Athena, nevertheless."  
  
A feminine voice rang from nowhere. "You have no need to call for my assistance, Rejalyn Athenlar. I am here."  
  
Gray-white mists, the same color as my hair, swirled around both Ares and I before moving and stopping inbetween us. The mist hovered for another moment before forming into the body of a sleek, great-horned owl. After the owl glanced at the war god and myself, it gracefully began to transform into the goddess I had served and become familiar with. Athena.  
  
She held out her strong and sure hand and out of nowhere a spear appeared. She held it loosely. "I heard my name and immediately came. I recognized the voice of she who has been loyal." Then to Ares, "And the voice of he who is a major pain in the ass."  
  
Athena continued on. "I took the liberty of being filled in on the entire conversation by stopping time momentarily and watching it from afar. I then continued here. I asked the all-mighty Zues of the matter, Ares. Because Rejalyn has been so faithful to me, she has consent to both if she does so wish."  
  
I nodded, seeing her expectant look. I then kneeled forward and praised her as I had before - in my cottage. When I was still alive. "I thank you, mighty Athena."  
  
She nodded her head, her eyes seemed glazed over now. And then I heard her voice within my head: 'This is the last time I can save or help, Rejalyn Athenlar. You have lived out your life; you are dead. No longer will I be able to help you. You are on your own in this world as of now."  
  
After several more minutes the goddess took her leave. Ares fumed as I smiled back at him.  
  
"Fine. Which do you want first? The coping old biddies or the reliving?"  
  
"Cope first. I'd like the reliving to be last - happy times." 


	3. Old News

"Very well. Let us-"  
  
"Us?"  
  
"Yes, Rejal. You and I. Us. You thought we would let you go alone? Fool. Let us go back to that damned planet and see what precisely is going on."  
  
Ares waved his hand and the white void opened up, revealing fertile, green grass and clear blue sky.  
  
"It is two days since your death. You were not discovered dead until an old friend came a-knocking upon your door. When you did not answer the door was knocked down. You were then discovered."  
  
"Who found me?" I asked.  
  
"Tahlet. Wiseguy. He and his dear Brynhild had a nasty melee back in Valhalla. Tahlet left her, not knowing whether he would go back. Once he saw your body he immediately shapeshifted, picked up your corpse and flew you to Valhalla.  
  
"There was another dispute. He begged for your soul to be taken to Valhalla; Brynhild was adamant. Your soul could not be a part of Valhalla because you had not died in battle. It is the unwritten law, you know. Also because you were more firmly associated with the Greeks rather than the Norse. There was a third reason, of course."  
  
I nodded understandingly. "Of course. Brynhild would not have taken me because I was originally Tahlet's first true love. True, it was not by his choice, rather it was destined by royal law, but it was still fact."  
  
Ares nodded gaily. "Correct."  
  
"Continue, please, Ares."  
  
He shrugged. "Word spread like wildfire, finding its way to Finn MacCool, who rejoiced alongside his town, and onward until it finally reached Carmencita and Marisa directly from Tahlet himself."  
  
I kept waiting for him to continue. To say that Sven and Yecennia had been told as well. But I knew he would not go on. Sven was dead. Yecennia, too, had passed on to her well-deserved afterlife. Years ago. Sven had been killed, murdered in his sleep by a group of ten men carrying swords and other weapons. A longsword had gone straight through his eyes. That had been the end of my dear, wonderful Sven.  
  
Yecennia had died in her sleep also, but not by murder. Age and time had worn down upon her greatly in her last five years. She had fought off a lot of illnesses, but was finally subdued. Her reign was passed on to her daughter, Amarra.  
  
"You said Tahlet and Brynhild had fought, Ares," I voiced. "Did they reconnect?"  
  
Ares nodded boredly. "Yes, they 'recconected.' Lovers. Fools."  
  
"I did not ask you to damn them; just, please, tell me about it."  
  
He snorted, once again contemptuous. "Tahlet was so demoralized by your death he went straight to Brynhild and apologized. He then brought out your body and ask she place your soul in Valhalla. When she said she could not, they quarreled again. Once everthing was explained, Wiseguy backed down, once again disheartened. Brynhild apologized, but with less sincerity. However. . ." he let it hang.  
  
I did not need three guesses. "However. . .thet made it up in bed, right?"  
  
Ares nodded. "Very good."  
  
"I have come to know the gods well, both in life and now even here, in the afterlife," I said. "And besides, I never did like that bitch."  
  
"I see your seasons have not yet curbed your tongue."  
  
"You see correctly. Go on, Ares, I want to get out there soon."  
  
"Fine. Fine. To finish this up, you have your mourners, and you also have your rejoicers."  
  
"Of course, the rejoices outnumber the mourners atleast three to one, right?"  
  
Ares nodded. "You are correct."  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
"Step through the portal whenever you're ready, Rejalyn. I want to get this overwith so I can be done with you."  
  
I took a deep breath. 


	4. Sanity is Lost in Age

I took another deep breath and thought a moment.  
  
"I changed my mind. I'd rather relive something than see people coping."  
  
Ares raged. "You called upon Athena to grant you both and NOW you decide not to?! You not only wasted her time, but you have also wasted mine!"  
  
I shrugged. "Hey, I'm old. Dead, in fact. I'm stubborn. I can change my mind."  
  
Ares growled. He flexed his arm muscles and I could see the burning desire inside him just waiting. He wanted to grasp my neck firmly in his hands and twist until it snapped.  
  
Not that it would do much more.  
  
"I'd rather not waste your time anymore, Ares. So, let's just get the reliving thing done, okay?"  
  
"Fine. I grow tired of you. What do you want to relive?"  
  
"Seville, Spain. The entire time."  
  
"Can you be a little bit more specific?" he asked, exasperated.  
  
"Not really. It was the only time I was ever in Seville. Should be easy enough, what for a god like you."  
  
Ares flexed his arm muscles. He was growing tense and agitated; that was easy enough to tell. It was easy to push him over the edge. I knew that all too well. Too clearly. It had happened at our first meeting, in fact.  
  
I tried to remember it. Tried. I was what, 15 at the time? Forty-eight years is a long time to remember back, even for something that could possibly have changed my life so greatly as that meeting probably had.  
  
But, try as I might, I couldn't remember. I just couldn't.  
  
I had always been able to recall bits and pieces of it before and piece it back together.  
  
'Now there is a difference, however,' I realized bitterly. 'I'm dead now.'  
  
"Yes; you are dead. I can clearly vouch for that bit of truth," Ares snapped at me.  
  
Had I spoken aloud? I hadn't thought so. Didn't believe so, anyway.  
  
What was going on? Why couldn't I remember? Was Ares reading my thoughts?  
  
What was happening to me?  
  
Ares glared at me. "Are you ready to see Seville once again?" he asked.  
  
I nodded, still perplexed about my sanity. "I am ready." 


	5. Thinking to Oneself

Ares raised his hands. Instantaneously after that a portal appeared. He immediately stepped in front of it, blocking my way. "Though you will not see me, I will be accompanying you on your reliving-trip. You will not have aged in this reliving. You will be the same age as you were originally at this time. Your friends will be young as well. Everything will appear as it had been back then.  
  
"However," he went on, "while you may be young and seem ignorant. . .you, at the same time, will not be. You alone will hold the knowledge of what is to come in the future. The knowledge /will/ drive you insane after a time. Feel free to say it aloud, they will not hear your words. They will either hear what you said the first time you lived it, or silence, depending on what went on at the time. If they do somehow manage to hear or see a fraction of the real-you, the dead-you, even that will not matter. What is done is done. You will not be able to change anything that happens this time around. Do you understand?"  
  
I nod. "I understand everything."  
  
"Good. You may step across this portal now. . ." he stepped aside.  
  
I crossed.  
* * * *  
The first thing I notice is the sharp pain in my side and lungs. "Ooh!" I muttered and cursed to myself.  
  
And then I look around. "I'm breathing," I realized. I was actually breathing!  
  
"Hey, Rejal! Get over here! Come on, we're checking out the local centre!"  
  
My head snapped involuntarily. I -knew- that voice.  
  
"Carmencita Inez," I whispered. Her black hair swirled around her lively face, vibrant and full of a cheeriness I knew could disappear in an instant. As long as nothing pissed her off, everything would turn out okay, however. She seemed to smile through her red lips. "Are you coming or not, Rejal? Marisa's starting to think you died you're taking so long!"  
  
Dead-me gulped. Reliving-me smiled merrily and said, "I'm coming. Lead the way, O Oddly Happy One."  
  
And suddenly Marisa Van'kre stood beside Cita. The night elf's midnight-colored skin glistened in the sunlight. Her brown eyes, which seemed so much like sparkling orbs, also seemed to smile. Her long, silvery-white hair looked uncharacteristically delicate as it fluttered with the breeze.  
  
Tears came to my eyes. Of course, neither Marisa nor Carmen could see them. I was alone in my journey. Alone. . .  
  
Like so many other times.  
  
Alone.  
  
'We were so young and full of youth,' I thought silently. 'How can we not realize our inevitable fate? Are we too preoccupied with what is current, with what is going on, to think about our fatality?  
  
'We were so young. . .and happy. . . Where did those times go? Those years before the heavy battles and long road-trips and journeys? We could take anything back then. Nothing could have worn us down. Nothing.'  
  
"Why?" I whispered.  
  
"Why what, Rej?" Marisa asked, quizzically. "Why did Cita actually think we needed this vaca? I think you're proof enough of 'why.' You look pale, hon. Come on, get in the buggy. We'll ride downtown."  
  
They helped me up into the carriage.  
  
I glanced around; took in the scenery. Everything was fertile and green. Bright, vibrant colours. Children playing, laughing. Living.  
  
I looked at the horse that lead our cart. Belgium. Very big. Bigger than a Clydesdale. Its golden-brown mane bounced upon its strong, thick neck as it proudly ushered us to downtown Seville.  
  
I had always liked horses. Their personalities varied so much. . .it was interesting to see what type you would come along next. Of course, I'm pretty sure all animals have their own personalities. . .but in some it is just more prominent in than in others, you know?  
  
"So, where to first?" Carmen wondered. "I'd heard a hotel down here somewhere was throwing an opening-day party."  
  
Marisa grinned. "We can cause trouble there later. We can hit the major plaza first, then see what's going on at the party; if you both agree."  
  
Carmen shrugged. "Sounds good."  
  
I nodded. It sounded good to me, too.  
  
We rode downtown in almost perpetual silence. Every now and then someone would comment on the scenery, or someone would bring up an old friend. . .  
  
. . .or some stupid male would whistle or call out as our buggy went by, and we would respond in our own special ways. Most of which involved either flirting followed by the "one-finger wave" or general cursing of the male gender.  
  
We enjoyed it.  
  
Those were the days. 


End file.
